


Reunion

by darkcyan



Category: Gundam 00
Genre: Gen, Movie Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:24:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkcyan/pseuds/darkcyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short conversation between two old acquaintances, who meet for the first time in many years in a rather unexpected place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Contains spoilers for A Wakening of the Trailblazer, some references to bits and pieces of both seasons of the anime.

Klaus Grad, Chief Officer of the deep space ship _Sumeragi_ , stood in front of the large bay window that covered most of the outside wall of the otherwise empty lounge, and thought of … not precisely nothing, but near enough, as he watched Jupiter’s majestic form slowly move across his view. 

He cherished the quiet moments like this, perhaps because there were so few of them.  Not for the faint of heart, was running a ship with a population of 1200.  _So long as it stays that number, I will be content._   He thought, not for the first time.  He was old, and tired, damn tired of losing people on his watch.  His reflection – almost invisible against the far more interesting view of space beyond the window – smiled wryly.  _I could use your help here, Shirin._  

But his old friend and fellow revolutionary had preceded him to … whatever lay beyond this life fifteen years ago.  He wondered, occasionally, what she would think.  Of the life he’d led since then.  Of his choice to take on this mission.  Of … a lot of things.  _Oh, don’t fool yourself.  She’d probably be happy for you, once she got over being upset at you for not continuing to watch over the Princess in her absence._ When it came to having eyes for only one blissfully unaware person, Shirin’s regard for her princess – who in this new, somehow still peaceful world, really had no need of a bodyguard – had only ever been matched by Marina Ismail’s for that Gundam pilot boy.  _Though there were signs that that regard, at least, might have been returned, if Setsuna hadn’t always turned around and disappeared._  

He wondered what Setsuna – what the rest of the members of Celestial Being – were doing now.  Some few of them had rejoined normal society – the tactical forecaster for whom this ship had been named being a prime example – but of the others he remembered, they’d stayed completely out of the public eye since that fateful battle fifty years ago.  He shook his head.  _Wherever they are, I hope they are alive and well, and as happy as they know how to be.  For all they did for the world, they deserve at least that much._  

He allowed himself a brief sigh – he felt so old, sometimes, under the burden of so many memories and regrets.  Older still, when interacting with the majority of his crew.  _They all seem so_ young _, it doesn’t seem quite right that they’re dedicating years, perhaps even an entire lifetime, to this crazy voyage.  Do they even really know what they’re signing up for?_ His reflection smiled sardonically.  _Not that I didn’t make my own fair share of crazy decisions when I was their age.  … Nor, apparently, has my tendency towards crazy decisions been dulled by age._  

Clear the way the rest of his reflection was not, his eyes briefly glowed that unique combination of swirling colors that marked him, like everyone else on the ship, as an Innovator.  He turned his head away, still not entirely used to it, even though he had transitioned several years ago.  He still, as far as he knew, held the record for oldest to successfully become an Innovator – most who reached his age seemed more inclined to stay stubbornly human.  It had been … quite a shock to him, as well, when it finally happened.  _And if it hadn’t, I wouldn’t be standing here now._

But that didn’t make it any easier to meet his own eyes.  He turned his body to follow his head, striding briskly over to the panel in the corner of the room that controlled the shield plate that normally covered the bay window.  _I’m sure my aides must be wondering where I am now.  Terribly eager to inform me of just how many critically important things I’ve missed._

Yet just before he pressed the button that would re-lower the shield, a quiet hiss caught his attention.  He looked towards the door, squinting slightly at the bright light from the corridor as it spilled into the darkened room – well enough lit to keep him from tripping over any of the tables or chairs that scattered the area, but only that – making the figure at the door little more visible than a silhouette.

“Oh.” He? Yes, he – said, and half-turned to leave, hand reaching out to palm the door shut again and leave Klaus in peace. 

It was, Klaus realized, a familiar silhouette, paired with an oddly familiar voice, particularly given some of the memories he’d just been dwelling on.  “Tieria?”  He asked, the word slipping out before he had a chance to censor it.  “Tieria Erde?”

The young purple-haired man halted his turn, rotating back to regard him with a gaze whose weight Klaus felt from across the room, even if he couldn’t currently see the other man’s eyes, then snapped to attention.  “Chief Officer!”

Klaus did not shake his head, though he would have liked to.  “No need to stand on formality with me.  You wished to use this room?  If you don’t mind an old man’s company, you’re welcome to join me.”  _An old man’s curiosity, more like.  Weren’t you just leaving?_

“Yes, sir.” The young man kicked off the corridor floor into a gentle glide across the room to the window, palming the door shut as he launched, returning the room to its formerly dim state.  He landed perhaps ten feet away from Klaus’ position, nodded briefly to the Chief Officer, then turned to face the window, taking a stance very similar to Klaus’ only a few minutes before.

Klaus eyed him.  Though his memory wasn’t always the clearest for faces, particularly ones he had seen only a few times decades ago, he could see almost no change in this face from the one that inhabited his memory – perhaps a slightly different cut to his fringe, nothing more.  He resisted the urge to shake his head again.  _I know I’m not as well acquainted with the personnel files as I ought to be, but if this really_ is _Tieria, I find it hard to believe that I would have missed seeing_ that. 

… But of course.  He had heard how similar Innovades from the same genetic line looked.  That was undoubtedly all it was.  Still, the resemblance was … uncanny.  “My apologies, young man.  I must have mistaken you for – a forebear of yours with whom I was acquainted a long time ago.  Might I know your name?” 

His companion turned his head just far enough to gift him with a dimly visible enigmatic smile.  “Your memory does not fail you, Chief Officer Klaus Grad.  I am known on this ship as Graham Schmidt, but insofar as anyone could be said to be, I am in fact Tieria Erde.” 

“You have aged … remarkably well.”  Klaus offered. 

Tieria shook his head, shoulder-length hair haloing around his head briefly in the low gravity. “I,” he placed a hand to his chest, “or rather, this body is only about two years old.  Grown for the purpose of joining this mission, as the Tieria Erde who is me has now mostly separated himself from the Tieria Erde you once knew, who now functions as Veda’s consciousness.”

Klaus blinked.  “… How does it feel to be immortal?”  Immediately regretted it, but at least it hadn’t been the other question that had popped into his mind – _how does it feel to be a computer?_

Tieria smiled that enigmatic smile again.  “I am far from immortal, Chief Officer.  This body shall age no slower than that of any Innovator, and given sufficient years will eventually break down like any other, should it not meet its end in some more … exciting fashion first.”  

“Yes, but _you_ will still live on, correct?” 

Tieria turned to look out the window, silent for a long moment.  “… Yes and no.”  He finally replied.  “Should I die while on this mission, if we are in a sufficiently remote location that I cannot contact Veda, the death of the ‘me’ here, the loss of the experiences I have gone through, will be just as permanent as that of any other person on this ship.”

He seemed disinclined to say anything more.  Klaus hesitated a moment, but then, he’d already been rude enough that there seemed little point in returning to tact now.  “Are you … afraid of dying?  If it happens when you’re – disconnected? – from Veda?” 

A quick glance his way was followed by an unexpectedly light-hearted chuckle.  “Well, they do say that the third time’s the charm ….”  Another of those slightly-too-long pauses, as he stared back out the window, face solemn again.  “‘Afraid’ … is not the word I would choose.  It is certainly a fate that I would prefer to avoid meeting again.  I would feel regret that my mission was left incomplete.  Regret that the I-who-is-Veda would never learn of my fate, would lose the knowledge I have gathered on this trip.  But fear?  No.  I don’t think so.” 

A wry smile as he looked down at his hands.  “But then.  I suppose I will not know for sure unless that comes to pass. I have been … surprised at my tendencies towards more human frailties before.”

Klaus rather thought that a fear of death was simple good sense, not a weakness … but then, he wasn’t a living terminal to a massive supercomputer, so he supposed his perspective might be a bit different. 

Either way, this was certainly more than enough talk of death.  “Well, let’s assume that won’t happen.”  He said jovially.  “I will be doing my best to make sure all of us return home safely, after all, as will everyone on this ship.  So.  What _is_ it like to be immortal?” 

Tieria shook his head, looking up at Klaus with an amused smile.  “You do realize, don’t you, that although Veda has been around for far longer than either of us has been alive, the part of it and me that is Tieria Erde is probably at least five years younger than you?” 

“Still, you will be here long after I’m gone.” Klaus pointed out, not even entirely sure anymore why he was pressing the point so hard.  Perhaps because, Innovator lifespan or not (and how much of that had he truly picked up, becoming one as late as he had?), he knew his own time drew short.  He did not … entirely … regret it – it had been a life well lived, all told.  But he thought perhaps his growing consciousness of his own mortality drove his curiosity about one who no longer suffered under that restraint.

Tieria nodded.  Thought, then smiled slightly and shrugged.  “I suspect it will be a great deal like old age.  Those I care for will eventually all leave, I will have too many memories, both good and bad, for my own good – though at least I am unlikely to run out of space to store them in – and yet with each new day, there will be new experiences to be had and new connections to be formed and cherished, even should they turn out to be short-lived.” 

Klaus chuckled.  Memories he certainly had in plenty.  As for people leaving him behind – Shirin was a recurring ache, stronger than most given the number of years and circumstances under which they’d worked together, but certainly far from the first friend he’d lost.  And so long as he himself continued to go on living, unlikely to be the last.  “On the bright side,” he offered, “you will at least be spared the arthritis.” 

Tieria smirked.  “I suppose that depends on how long this voyage lasts, doesn’t it?”

Klaus laughed. “Fair enough.  Why –” He stopped himself.  “Never mind.  I’ve asked more than enough invasive questions for one day.” 

“No need to hold back.”  An expression something like wistfulness flashed across Tieria's face so quickly that Klaus was not entirely sure he had seen it in the first place.  “You might as well ask now that you've made me curious.”

“Well ... Why are you here?  Surely you have more important things to do ...”

“More important than a deep space voyage into the unknown?” Tieria asked lightly.  “Perhaps if I held a position of responsibility elsewhere that would be true, but I was created specifically for the purpose of coming on this voyage, so to this me, specifically, there is no more important task.  As for Veda, it is a negligible expenditure of resources and energy to build a clone and fork my personality into it.  More than worth it for the knowledge I expect to gain from this journey.”

He opened a palm upwards.  “Is it really so surprising that Veda would be just as curious as the rest of you about what other dialogues await us out there?  Or that I would wish to also be involved, no matter how slight or indirect the contribution?”

Put that way ... “In that case, I’m surprised you're not taking a more public role.  As one of the official envoys or something.”

Tieria raised an eyebrow.  “I assure you, merging my personality with a supercomputer has made me no more inclined to suffer fools than I have ever been.”

Klaus considered the few times he'd crossed paths with the purple-haired Gundam Meister back in his Katharon days, and grinned despite himself.   “Point.  So, what –” He stopped himself and took another look at Tieria’s uniform, nodding when the question answered itself.  “Data analyst, huh?  I might have guessed pilot, but –”

“I am registered as a backup pilot.” Tieria confirmed.  “But unless it becomes necessary for me to step in, I am content to stand back and allow the new generation to seize what glory there is to be found.”  His expression turned distant for a moment.  “I have seen enough of ‘glory’ to last me several lifetimes.”

Klaus huffed an unamused laugh.  “I think we all hope that any interventions of that sort on your part will be unnecessary.”

The other man carded his fingers briefly through his bangs.  “Indeed.  I shall have my hands full, as it is, with sorting through the information that Setsuna and my other avatar brought back from the ELS homeworld.  From my understanding of our current projected course, we will not be passing anywhere near it, but some of the more general information may still be of use.  I will, of course, inform you of anything pertinent.” 

“That would be appreciated.”  Klaus nodded, then blinked.  “Wait.  ELS _homeworld_?  And he’s returned?”  He supposed that at least answered the question of where he had gone.  “How?  What is he doing now?”  

Another shrug.  “He returned in the same way he left – using the quantum teleportation capabilities of the 00-QAN[T].  Not a means that can be expanded out to larger groups of people yet, unfortunately, although Veda is working with a number of scientists and engineers on seeing if the technology can be adapted to work on a broader scale, particularly now that we have so many more Innovators to work with.”  A short shake of his head, combined with a thin smile.  “Although Setsuna has always been in something of a class of his own.” 

“And now?” 

“He departed for Earth.”  A pointed look.  “After that, I lost track of him, as I am neither omniscient nor particularly interested in being a voyeur.” 

Klaus grinned, having just as good an idea as Tieria as to Setsuna’s likely destination.  _It’s about damn time.  Maybe –_

His pocket buzzed, and he swore. “Meeting.  I’d almost forgotten –” He half-turned towards the door, then turned back. 

Tieria bowed his head briefly.  “The trials of running a ship this size.  Do not mind me, I believe I would like to admire this view for a little while longer.”  Then offered a small smile.  “I … thank you for the conversation.”

Klaus smiled back.  “It was my pleasure.”  Strode to the door, then as he palmed it open, turned back.  “Let’s talk again sometime.  There are … not a lot of people left who remember.” 

Tieria’s smile seemed particularly bright – though perhaps that was simply due to the light shining through the now-open door making it the first of his expressions that Klaus had been able to see clearly since their conversation began.  “I believe I would enjoy that.” 


End file.
